


Hidden // DNF

by bigsimpman



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Blood and Injury, Blood and Violence, Character Death, Fantasy, Historical, Historical Inaccuracy, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, M/M, Miscarriage, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Romance, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-14 22:22:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 6,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28553043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bigsimpman/pseuds/bigsimpman
Summary: "There's a whole world beyond these walls,so why must I stay hidden?"------------------------DreamNotFound Fantasy AURoyalty AUSomewhat historical?Historically inaccurateOOC?TW (Blood, Violence, Death, Mention of Vomit, Implied Abuse, Reference to Abuse, Mention of Miscarriage.)--------------------------TWs will be added as the fic goes on and if anything triggers you in the story let me know so i can add a warning for it!--------------------------not shipping dream or george, just their personas.i write about the personas/ characters, not the real people.if they ever get uncomfortable with fics i'll take this down.not actually a dnf shipper, mainly wrote this for funsies.--------------------------enjoy! :)
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 38
Kudos: 132





	1. 00

Dream  
————————————————————————

I was walking through the large halls. No matter how hard I tried to walk slowly every step I took echoed throughout the large and empty corridors. 

The cold stone below me did nothing to ease the loud clacking my shoes made. 

The castle was empty. I knew most of his advisors were currently meeting with a neighbouring kingdom; war was brewing and it was their job to stop it. His guards were easy enough to sneak past. I'd get to him in no time. 

Finally, I stopped at a door at the end of the corridor. 

I pushed it open. 

A young man jumped from the bed in the middle of the room. He wiped his face frantically. He'd been crying. 

'D-dream?' he whispered, voice cracking. 

He ran forward quickly, making his way across the large and, rather empty, room. He latched onto my shirt tightly, burrowing his face in my chest. His eyes were scrunched shut and there was nothing but pure vulnerability on his face. 

Suddenly, he looked up. His eyes were wide and glassy. His fingers trailed up to the mask resting on my face. 

'Can I?' his voice barely a whisper. 

With no hesitation, I responded-

'Yes.'

He slowly and carefully unclipped my mask, his fingers moving slowly and delicately. He caught the mask as it slipped down my face. 

He let out a soft gasp. 

'You're pretty.' was all he said, humming. 

'I am?' 

'Prettier than anyone I've ever seen before.'

He said it with full confidence, even if there was a light pink dusting his cheeks. 

'George..' I whispered, unable to comprehend what was happening. 

He leant forward, closing the gap between us. 

'Dream?' 

'Yes?' 

'Can I kiss you?' 

'What?'

'Can I kiss you?' his voice faltered. 

I felt a lump in my throat. I'd never kissed a guy before. It was seen as wrong. Society was cruel. But there was nothing cruel about George. He was different. How wrong could it be if he was the first person I'd truly loved? 

'Yes.' 

He kissed me. 

It was a light kiss- soft, gentle and full of tender love. But in that quick kiss everything fell into place. 

He leant forward to kiss me again, but after a few seconds I pulled away. 

'Are you sure this is okay?' I whispered. 

He looked at me, eyes full of empathy. 

'Yes, Dream. It's okay. And we're going to be okay.' 

'You promise?' I hesitantly asked.

He smiled widely. 'I promise.' 

————————————————————————

Dream tore himself away from the memory. His eyes stung as the familiar pang of guilt and pain welled up inside of him. 

It's easy to make promises.

And it's even easier to break them.


	2. 01

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And so it begins

George couldn't exactly describe how he felt. 

It was a mixture of dizzy nerves and intoxicating excitement. And beneath all that, a murky pool of sadness and despair, threatening to bubble up and spill out, consuming his entire body. 

Today was his coronation. The whole kingdom was invited to attend, friends and family from far away kingdoms invited too. There would be celebrations, festivities and a feast larger than anyone could ever imagine. It was going to be a joyous occasion. 

But, since it was George's coronation, it also meant one more thing. 

His father was dead. 

And he was soon to be taking his place. 

As the new king. 

When he first heard about his father's death, George was shocked to say the least. As well as horrified when he heard the details. And upon seeing his father's mangled corpse, he had thrown up too.

His father had been killed by one of the regions monsters while out on a hunting trip. A large, vicious animal known for its deadly saliva with the ability to rust iron in people's blood.

The Rustbeast. 

These beasts were feared across the land. They would create large wounds in travellers and lick them, watching as their victim would be killed from the inside out. 

George shuddered at the thought. None had ever survived an encounter with a Rustbeast. Most considered it the most painful way to die. He tried not to think about it.

He remembered watching as his mother furiously yelled at his father's knight. He was there with him when it happened. He should have protected him.

Rage contorted her face, and, as George looked closer, he saw sadness twisting it's way on her face as well. Tears stained her cheeks and her voice was hoarse from shouting. She was ghastly pale and looked so exhausted that she may crumple to the floor at any second. 

George remembered feeling a pain in his chest. 

This was grief.

George stood still, placing his arms out and allowing his seamstress to adjust his cloak and royal attire. He glanced across the room to his mother. She was looking down sadly, hands clasped around his fathers pendant. Snaking around her shoulders in a horrifyingly contorted shape, was the silvery presence of a Mournling. 

A small, translucent creature, known to resemble a weeping child. They followed those dealing with grief. George had a Mournling of his own once, but he'd quickly pushed down his sorrow to make it disappear. Although it was considered rude to point out someone's Mournling, it was also considered taboo for a male, especially one with societal or royal status, to have one. 

He looked at her with sympathy. 

Coming back to his senses, he realised his seamstress had stepped away. His mother's eyes welled with tears as she walked towards him, arms outstretched. 

"You look just like your father." she mused, smiling. 

George smiled back at her. 

He heard fanfares play and cheering as he walked out of the room. He began walking into the courtyard. He was greeted by the beaming faces of hundreds of onlookers. It was far too crowded for his liking, and many poorer citizens had gathered outside as well, desperate for a look inside. 

He stood facing the crowd. Silence fell. And as George felt the crown place upon his head, cheers erupted. The noise was so loud it was practically deafening. George cringed at how loud and boisterous the atmosphere was. Although he quite enjoyed social events himself, he often preferred the people and change of scenery rather than the noise.

But that crown was more than a royal title. It was responsibility, vulnerability, and danger. Placing that crown on his head was like placing a bounty; as a prince he didn't receive much attention. But as a king? All eyes were on him. Suddenly he became the centre of attention, and not all those watching him had good intentions. Many thought the crown was a blessing, but to George it felt like a burden. 

Dread coiled in his stomach. 

George didn't think he was going to like this whole king business very much.


	3. 02

It was safe to say Dream wasn't having a good time. The new king had just be crowned; Gerald? George? Yeah. That was his name. George. And now, whereas George was an undeniably fair and handsome king, there was one major problem with him that Dream was incredibly infuriated over. 

He had banned the hunting and studying of the regions dangerous monsters. Now, Dream, being the somewhat rational person he was, understood that this was due to his fathers death. However, Dream also being the emotion fuelled person he was, was utterly furious because this new law put him completely out of business. 

From a young age Dream had taken special interest in the creatures that lurked around the kingdom. He spent most of his childhood outdoors in fields studying small, gentle creatures and drawing them. He started to write profiles on them and began to share his findings with local libraries. 

Eventually, when he became a teenager, he started studying more dangerous creatures- under the guidance of a man called Quackity and his supervisor Jschlatt. After a while, it became Schlatt who took over most of Dream's studying. Now, looking back on it, the man’s methods of studying had been very unprofessional, with him often coaching Dream into killing creatures and he had several stories where he brushed with death. 

Nevertheless, Dream owed him a lot. He gained a lot of experience and a reputation with large universities and the higher classes. 

By the time Dream was 17, he was writing and hunting for some of the wealthiest and most influential people across the kingdom. However, his notoriety didn't stop there- and he often worked for people in other kingdoms too. He learnt more and more about creatures from different regions and kingdoms and published it all under a large, and detailed book he called: The Dream Book of Monsters. 

And this lead to his well known alias Dream. 

Very few remembered his actual name, and it hadn't been used in so long Dream himself wasn't sure if it was truly his name at all. 

Dream remembered Schlatt holding him behind one day after studying. Dream must have only been 15 at the time. Quackity had offered to stay, but Schlatt had dismissed the man. He had told Dream to protect his identity. To wear a mask. This was not only a way to maintain his privacy, but also a way to boost popularity. Increase his income. It made him an enigma, a faceless figure of strength and intelligence. He had been given a white, slightly curved and thin mask by Schlatt. Dream could tell by its size it was intended to cover his face in it's entirety. Dream recoiled slightly as he realised the mask was made from bone. He didn't question where the bone was from. Dream had carved two dots in it for eyes, before adding a curved line vaguely resembling a smile. 

"Never quite seen a design like that before."  
Schlatt smirked behind him. 

Dream doubted the man meant to be malicious, but there was a certain condescending tone to his voice. However, as Dream looked closely at the glint in his eyes, he realised the statement was meant as nothing more than a playful jab at his rather abstract choice of design. 

"Yeah... I think it looks a bit like a face." Dream responded. 

"Now that you've mentioned it, yeah, I guess it does like like a face." Schlatt's voice was more curious now, but it still held that same sense of playful humour. 

Dream had realised all to quickly that this was Schlatt's personality. He would blur the lines between humour and genuity, but it was always clear when his words were more malice filled than humorous. 

He had also realised fairly quickly that the man's attitude was more gentle than he had previously thought. He'd noticed that his tone often became softer towards him and, more noticeably, Quackity. 

The younger man had mentioned that while out in the woods he'd been attacked- and just as he thought he was about to die, he had been rescued by Schlatt. He'd taken an apprenticeship under Schlatt and eventually became a teacher, still treating Schlatt as his superior. He lived in a training facility with him, and Dream had vague suspicions they shared sleeping quarters. It made sense after all, Schlatt had saved Quackity's life, of course the two were close. 

Dream also knew why Schlatt treated him with such fondness. He'd confided to Dream that he saw him as a son. Dream was fairly sure Schlatt was drunk at the time, but he also remembered a saying his father used to tell him.

Drunk words are sober thoughts. 

Still, although all this nostalgic reminiscing was rather nice, Dream still had a problem at hand. He was completely out of business- indefinitely. 

Tensions were brewing between kingdoms and it was too risky, and too expensive, to try and leave and move to a different kingdom, even with his reputation. That left Dream trapped in George's kingdom. 

So moving was out of the question. But jobs are easy to find for most people. It shouldn't be too difficult. Under normal circumstances, it wouldn't be. However, Dream's situation was far from normal. All his youth and early adult life had been spent studying monsters and training to hunt them. He had barely any other experience and most occupations available were labour oriented jobs; more specifically, farmers. 

Dream was no fool, he knew what happened to the farmers. 

Most were picked off by monsters their first week working on the job. All that open space, isolated from others. Perfect conditions for monsters to strike. Dream could only think of one farmer able to survive the monsters, although he was somewhat of a monster himself. 

Technoblade. The infamous half man, half pig hybrid. He was classed as the best farmer in all the kingdom. Not only for his insane dedication and ability to farm, but also his impressive survival skills. If Dream recalled correctly, his father was an ex war hero and current head advisor for the king. How his wife had birthed such a monstrosity of a child is unknown, but most logical people came to the conclusion she had been cursed. After all, she'd died shortly after his birth mysteriously and suddenly.

Most scholarly positions were filled, with George's kingdom being one of incredible wealth and wisdom. Dream was well and truly stuck. 

Unless he wanted to die poor, hungry, and homeless, Dream would have to sort something out with work. And he had one crazy idea on how to do it. 

He slipped his mask on and left his house. He walked through town before arriving at a large, well kept, stone building. This was the current residence of the one man who could help him out. 

"Yes, hello, I'd like to speak to you about arranging a visit to the king?"


	4. 03

Dream felt his palms begin to sweat as the man he was looking for turned to stare at him. 

Ph1lza. Ex war hero, father of Technoblade and, most importantly, current head advisor for the king. 

"I'd be happy to answer any queries you have and possibly arrange a visit to the king but how exactly did you find out where I lived?" 

Oh. Dream probably should have introduced himself and explained first. 

"Sorry, uh I'm Dream." He placed his hand out. Phil shook it reluctantly. He looked skeptical and raised an eyebrow. 

"Dream?"

"It's an alias."

"I see."

"I'm a monster hunter. I've got quite good connections; I've written a few books and worked for various other kingdoms including Ruler Ere-"

"Oh. You're a monster hunter." Dream could sense the distaste in Phils tone. 

"Yeah and I'd like to see-"

"If you're inquiring over the new laws, they won't change." His distaste was stronger now. Dream felt heat rise to his cheeks as the uncomfortable atmosphere grew almost palpable.

Dream could tell Phil's distaste for monster hunters went deeper than just simple dislike. He just didn't know why. 

"Please, Sir Ph1lza-"

"Dad?" a voice inquired behind them. 

Dream and Phil turned to see a young man in his 20s standing there. He wore a dirty white shirt adorned with frills along the front, stemming from the collar. It's sleeves were baggy and cinched in at the cuffs. He was wearing plain brown trousers tucked into black boots. His hair was floppy and brown, and he wore round glasses so thick Dream didn't know how he could see out of them. 

But Dream knew who this man was. 

Technoblade wasn't Phil's only famous child. 

This was Wilbur Soot, famous poet and a member of the King's orchestra. 

It was almost sickening to Dream how tightly wrapped around George's finger Phil's family was. 

"Wil just-"

"You're Dream right?" Wilbur spoke out, smiling. 

Dream flushed. He didn't realise quite how well known he was. 

"Yeah I'm Dream nice to meet you." Dream shook Wilbur's hand. 

Phil raised his eyebrow curiously.

"You know who he is, Wilbur?" 

"Yeah of course, he's like a really famous monster hunter. He's written so many brilliant books and done incredible research. He's also worked for people like King Eret." 

Dream looked at the way Wilbur's face beamed as he excitedly babbled about Dream, gesticulating rapidly as he spoke.

"I see." was Phil's only response.

"What brings you to our humble abode Dream?" Wilbur asked kindly, still smiling widely. 

Dream couldn't help but snicker. Their large stone house bordering the castle walls was hardly humble. 

"I wanted to arrange a visit to see King George, that's all." 

"Oh I see! I'm sure Dad could work something out." 

"Wil I-"

"Great!" Wilbur smiled, hugging Phil quickly before walking forward to face Dream.

"The King is free tomorrow. Me and a few other orchestra members were invited for tea tomorrow at midday and we were allowed to bring a partner. I planned on bringing a friend of mine, but she couldn't make it. You could always come in her place and visit the king after." 

"P-partner?" Dream spluttered out. Phil hid a smile in his hand at Dream's reaction. 

"Yeah! But of course, it'd be purely platonic, right?" Wil's brow furrowed curiously. 

"Yeah yeah of course yeah." Dream laughed feebly before turning back to Phil, who was still stifling laughter. 

He bowed. "Thank you Sir Ph1lza." 

Phil gathered his composure and nodded his head.

"And thank you Wilbur. It's an honour to meet you." 

"The honour is all mine." Wil smiled. "Meet at the castle at noon. I'll be waiting." He smirked at Dream before heading out of the room.

"I see my son likes you." Phil simply said, staring at Dream intensely. 

Dream raised his eyebrows, eyes wide.

"What?" He choked. 

Phil looked at him with a pleading look. He placed a hand on Dream's shoulder. 

"You see, they say my son is sick. He constantly wallows in pity and lethargy and nothing seems to bring joy to him. But there's something about you that makes him smile. He looks up to you. Don't ruin that Dream." Phil's tone was firm. 

Dream gulped. 

"I won't." 

Dream didn't like the sensation of pure dread that filled him when he said those words.


	5. 04

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i got bored and wrote a bit of a filler chapter :)

George couldn't help but be excited as he heard the buzzing atmosphere of busy servants when he woke up that morning. As part of George's new reign he was organising meetings with all members of his royal advisory and his staff members, and today he had organised tea with his orchestra.

He smiled as his butler brought in his morning tea and placed it on his desk side. 

"Thank you." George said politely.

"I'm at your service your majesty, you needn't thank me." 

George hummed as his butler left the room. 

Despite him being a prince growing up, his mother had always taught him the importance of manners. She told George he would have to meet superiors from his and other kingdoms in his lifetime and would need to able to address them properly. 

However, George never really grew out the of the habit of thanking everyone, and this earned him the title of the 'Nice Prince', but George knew this wasn't meant kindly. It was used as an insult- a way to say he was soft, naïve: more of a 'pretty boy' than a king. 

Sighing, he began to drink his tea. As he did, he heard his maid come in. 

"Your Majesty?" she said softly. "Are you ready to get changed?" 

"Yes," George stood up. "Thank you." 

"No need to thank me Your Highness." she responded hurriedly, curtsying slightly. 

George humphed. If only his servants would take his gratitude.

He sighed as his maid began to unbutton his nightshirt. 

"Is something wrong, Your Majesty?" 

"No, not really. I just wish I could thank people for their acts of kindness towards me without them rejecting my appreciation." 

"I'm sorry Your Majesty, I will try to accept your gratefulness more often, it's just, as a member of the royal staff we are taught that the King needs not thank anyone, and that we are at his service for his every command." 

"I know." George replied, dejected. 

Maybe he should start thanking people less often. As a king he is not expected to show manners, for his is above all and has the power to order anything he wants. 

As George was deep in thought, he realised his maid had already dressed him for the day. 

"You work quickly." George smiled.

His maid blushed. 

"I try to help you as quickly as possible, Your Highness, it's my duty." 

"Yes, I suppose you do have a point there." 

George forced a smile. It was practically impossible to hold any form of conversation with anyone, they always seemed scared to let go with him. They always held this professional and fake manner around him and every time he tried to joke with them their faces would go ghastly pale, never knowing how to respond. 

It made George lonely. 

All he wanted was someone to joke with, talk to, spend time with; someone who didn't treat him like a king. 

Someone who treated him like George.


	6. 05

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> im sorry

Dream felt his chest bubble with nerves. 

It was time to see the king. 

He walked out of his house, grabbing his mask as he did and fastening it across his face. As he was leaving, his eyes wandered to the sword lying against his wall. He normally took it everywhere, the scabbard strapped to his leather belt a telltale sign of this. 

But to the King's palace? 

He didn't quite like the idea of getting his head cut off for treason. 

However, Dream also didn't quite like the idea of leaving his house without some form of weapon. There was no way of predicting when you'd need to fend off attackers.

So instead he settled for a small dagger. 

He strapped a leather sheath to his forearm and secured the dagger inside. He pulled his shirt over it and made sure the sleeves were baggy enough to cover the fact the sheath was there. 

He pulled a dark green cloak over himself before heading out. 

He approached the palace gates before he was stopped by a guard. 

"Halt!" the guard said. 

Dream stopped, holding back his laughter. He thought the whole 'halt' thing was a joke, and somehow it was even more ridiculous in person that it was in the tales and retellings of friends and travellers. 

"Why do you wish to see the king?" 

"I'm here for tea upon invitation." 

"You're not on orchestra member." the guard stared at Dream intensely. 

"No. But he's here as my partner." Dream felt someone's arms snake around his shoulders and he turned to see Wilbur smirking behind him. 

He leaned down, placed his head into Dream's neck and whispered into his ear. 

Dream's eyes widened. 

"Just go along with it." Wilbur whispered frantically. 

Dream was confused as to why Wilbur was behaving like this. He was sure the man had a reason for it, but what was it? 

Dream stared at the guard and noticed his hand recoil from his sword. Dream realised the man had planned on drawing his weapon. Dream felt his heart stop as it dawned on him that if Wilbur hadn't have stepped in and taken rather quick and questionable action, Dream would be dead. His small dagger wouldn't be enough to fend off a royal guard. 

Dream still had his doubts though. Why had the guard stopped so suddenly? Surely it wasn't just because of Wilbur's actions? 

And that's when Dream saw the young child hiding behind a tree not so far away from Wilbur. Dream guessed he was about 5 or 6. He had fox like ears and a ginger red mound of hair atop his head, which also faded into the sides of his face. He emerged out from behind the tree fully and Dream saw the boy had an eyepatch over his right eye. Dream assumed the boy was blind in that eye. Dream also noticed a drooping fox tail behind him.  
The boys eyes were glistening with tears. 

Another hybrid. Interesting. 

Wilbur turned around and his eyes grew wide. Dream felt him go limp. 

He ran away and towards the boy. 

"Fundy!" He said urgently.

The boy started crying. 

"It's okay it's okay Fundy I'm here." Wilbur knelt down scooping Fundy up. Wilbur hugged the boy as he sobbed into his chest. "What's wrong?" Wilbur asked gently, as Fundy's tears began to stop and he pulled away from Wilbur. Wilbur still kept his hands on Fundy's shoulders. 

"It's just... Tommy was being mean so I followed you and and saw you with that man and you-you," The boys eyes were welling up again. "you reminded me of Sally." 

Dream watched the colour fade from Wilbur's face. He froze, arms falling away from Fundy's shoulders and to the ground. 

"Sally?" He whispered. He hugged Fundy tightly. "I'm so sorry." 

"Who's Sally?" Dream blurted out. The second the words left his mouth Dream felt guilt and regret already start to seep into his bones. He hadn't meant to, but Dream was so nervous and uncomfortable with the whole situation that he couldn't control his thoughts and they had spewed out into words.

"Sally is Fundy's mother. She was my wife." Dream didn't like the tone of Wilbur's voice. It didn't seem to hold any malice, but it didn't seem to hold any sort of emotion really. It was so scarily ambiguous he didn't know how to interpret it or how he should feel.

Fundy looked at Dream solemnly before simply saying. "She was a salmon." 

This confused Dream. She surely couldn't have been a salmon but the boy's tone was completely serious. 

Suddenly Phil walked out to them from the castle courtyard. 

"Wilbur what are you doing the king's waiting-"  
Dream watched the man's expression shift as he saw Fundy. 

"Fundy? Wil what's he doing here?" Phil’s tone was stern, but Dream could sense it was also one of worry. 

Phil placed a hand on Wilbur's shoulder, but he flinched and moved away. 

Phil looked confused until he saw Wilbur was slowly zoning out. 

It was only then Dream noticed Wilbur was close to tears. Fundy's hand was resting on Wilbur's, but he hadn't grabbed it properly. He was standing still, staring out ahead. His eyes were wide and he was completely lost in thought, his eyes glazed and unfocused. 

"Oh Wil." Phil whispered. His voice wasn't disappointed, or angry, but more concerned and understanding. 

Wilbur turned to him, before hugging Phil and sobbing. 

Fundy looked up at Dream. 

"I made daddy sad." was all he said. And as Dream looked into the frightened, sad and genuinely sorry eyes of the young boy, he felt his heart shatter.

And as Phil held his son tightly, who was sobbing over everything his wife had done, he felt his heart shatter too.


	7. 06

Phil held his son in his arms. 

Phil felt his heart sink as he realised what this meant.

The sickness was getting bad again.

"Wilbur." Phil muttered soothingly. "Do you want me to take you home?" 

Wilbur nodded, still sobbing quietly. It was terrifying to Phil how vulnerable Wilbur was currently. Any loud sound was enough to make him break. The sheer fragility of the man's state was something that scared Phil. What if this happened when he wasn't there to help him?

"Fundy come with me." Phil said gently, holding out his hand. Wilbur was still holding onto Phil like a lost puppy. 

Fundy grabbed Phil's hand and they started to walk away. 

It wasn't long before they arrived home. 

Phil tucked Fundy to sleep and let Wilbur sit alone in his room, gathering his thoughts and composure. Phil didn't like leaving him alone, but he knew this was how Wil coped. 

Phil never knew Sally personally. But he knew what she did to his son. And that was enough to hate her.

Phil remembered when his son went missing. He was 18 at the time, and Phil had seen him with a young girl whom he said was called Sally. Phil didn't know where Wilbur had gone, but when Sally had gone missing too, he assumed the two had run off together.

Phil was incredibly concerned for his son, but he also had to tell himself his son was 18, and didn't need to live with his father anymore. Phil had pushed his worry down because at least his son was probably with Sally, which meant he was safe. 

But then nearly 2 years later, on a damp and dreary night, Wilbur suddenly knocked on Phil's door. 

Wilbur was holding a small child in his arms. Phil saw ears poking out of his ginger hair and a fox tail curled around his trembling body. 

Phil barely had time to register the fact Wilbur had a hybrid in his arms because his son, after so long, was finally home again. And Phil was confused as to why. 

"Wil are you okay wh-" 

Wilbur ignored his father and walked into the house hurriedly. 

"Phil he's hurt. Get Techno. He can help." 

As Phil scurried off to find Technoblade, he noticed the small boy was unconscious, with a deep gash across his forehead. Phil also noticed his right eye had been cut and was horribly deformed; a mangled bloody mess in its place. Phil felt himself gag. 

Wilbur placed the child over his shoulder before searching frantically for a cloth. He found a large linen cloth and placed it on the floor. He lay the child down by a large central fireplace and quickly lit it. Wilbur grabbed a small wooden bowl stored away on a shelf nearby. He ran outside and hastily followed a small path leading into a woodland clearing, a rushing stream flowing through it. 

He scooped some water into the bowl and felt it run over his fingers, it’s bitter coldness gnawing away at his knuckles and making him wince. 

He ran back to the house before comforting a quivering Fundy. 

“Shh it’s okay.” Wilbur muttered, stroking the boys hair. He was crying; his face a filthy mix of tears, blood, dirt and sweat.

Wilbur teared a corner of the large linen cloth, before placing it in water and wiping Fundy’s face, careful to avoid his remnant of an eye. 

Wil didn’t know how to stop the bleeding. He didn’t want to do anything wrong. He didn’t want to make anything worse. 

He was scared. 

He didn’t want to hurt his child. 

All he could do was place a wet cloth on Fundy’s forehead, hold his hand, and whisper sweet promises while waiting for Techno and Phil to return.


	8. 07

It wasn’t long before Phil came bursting through the door with Techno following behind him. Techno knelt down beside Fundy and shooed Phil and Wilbur out of the room. 

Phil glanced at his son nervously as he paced around frantically. He was biting his nails with a frown on his face and his brows furrowed. Phil had never seen Wilbur so anxious before. 

Suddenly, Wilbur sat down next to Phil. His leg was shaking. 

“The child I bought back is my son.” Wilbur blurted out, turning towards Phil. 

Phil’s eyes widened. 

“Son?” 

“Yes. His name is Fundy.” Wilbur was speaking quickly, but he seemed distant, almost as if his answers were programmed and he was working on autopilot.

An uncomfortable silence washed over them. 

“What happened Wil?” Phil’s eyes were full of concern. 

“What?” 

“You’ve been gone nearly two years, and now you’ve brought a child back with you? Who is a hybrid- what happened while you were away Wil?” 

Wil let out a shuddering breath. 

“Sally was pregnant when we left.”

Silence. 

“Oh.” 

Wilbur’s eyes were dull.

“We lost the baby.” 

“Wil I’m so sorry-“ 

“It’s fine, Dad. I have Fundy now. He is my son. My beautiful son.” 

“I’m happy for you Wil.” 

“I found Fundy a year ago. He’d been abandoned as a child and was living in an orphanage. They treated him like shit Phil. Constantly hitting him and hurling vicious words and cruel names at him. It broke my heart. I adopted him and he lived with me and Sally.” 

“How is Sally by the way?” 

“Dead. To me at least, anyway.” 

“Do you want to talk about it?” 

“No. She hurt me Phil. In more ways than one. But no matter what she did I stayed, because I convinced myself she loved me.” 

Phil swallowed the lump forming in his throat. He wanted to ask more, but he had to be cautious. 

“What made you leave?” 

“She hurt my child.” 

Phil felt bile form in his throat as he thought of Fundy in the room next to him. Sally did that? 

“I wanted to come back home. But, on the way, monster hunters attacked me and Fundy. They let me go when they realised I wasn’t a hybrid, but they tried to kill Fundy.” 

Monster hunters. Phil felt anger bubble up inside him. Not only had they spent years hunting and tormenting his son for being a hybrid, but they had also tried to kill his grandson. His grandson, who Phil guessed couldn’t be more than 5 or so. 

Suddenly, Techno opened the door quietly. 

“You can, uh come in now.” Wilbur hurriedly walked ahead and sat down next to Fundy. He had an eyepatch over his remnants of an eye and had a large bandage wrapped around his head. 

Fundy’s eyes fluttered open. 

“D-daddy?” he whispered.

Wil’s eyes welled up with tears. He hugged Fundy.

“Yes, I’m right here.” 

Techno glanced over to Phil before leaning down and whispering in his ear.

“Wilbur has a son?” 

“Yes.” 

“Oh.” Techno looked surprised. 

“Hey uh Techno?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Would you mind keeping an eye on Wilbur?” 

Techno glanced over at Wil. He was smiling holding Fundy in his arms, nothing but pure love on his face.

“Why? He seems fine.” 

“Sally did something to him Techno. Many things. And I don’t know what they are, But I know it was bad. I don’t know how much longer he’s gonna be okay.” 

“Phil I’m so sor-“ 

“It’s best we save our apologies. Right now, we just need to be there for Wilbur.” 

“I will, Phil. I promise.” 

Phil felt some comfort at Techno’s words, but he knew one thing, and it gnawed away at him leaving nothing but a sick feeling within. He trusted Techno, but he couldn’t help but worry about one thing. 

Promises were so easy to break. 

And that’s what made them deadly.


	9. 08

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> nothing like listening to an ode to l’manburg on loop to get those creative juices flowing.

Dream stood outside the palace gates. 

He wasn’t quite sure what had happened, nor what to do. 

He didn’t know what happened with Wilbur. 

He didn’t know what happened with Ph1lza. 

And he certainly didn’t know what happened with the hybrid child. 

He wish he knew. 

Wilbur looked broken and Ph1lza looked scared. 

And that child. 

That poor, poor child. 

But Dream had one more thing on his mind. Now Wilbur was gone, he had no way into the King’s castle, and along with that no invitation to see him. 

The guard standing nearby looked just as stunned as Dream, but he soon went back to his stern expression and looked at Dream with scornful distaste. 

“I shall notify the King of your presence here. Although I doubt he will let you inside.” 

“O-oh okay.” Dream stuttered. 

The guard signalled to another guard standing across the courtyard.

“Watch him.” he barked at her loudly. 

“Alright keep your panties on!” she shouted back to him, her Irish accent prominent. 

“And don’t tell me what to do you cheeky cunt.” 

He scoffed and walked towards the castle.

Dream felt his heart race as the woman looked him up and down judgingly. She scowled at him and he felt a lump form in his throat. 

God, was she intimidating. 

Dream wasn’t very scared of people. 

But this woman, she terrified him.

Her demeanour, her expression, her aura- she radiated power, intimidation. 

And she was fully decked out in armour and had a gigantic sword in her grasp. 

‘Who the fuck are you supposed to be exactly?” she asked, her tone firm. 

“I’m Dream.” he forced myself to smile. It’s not like she could see his face, but as he forced a smile to slide onto his face his voice steadied slightly. 

“What the fuck kind of name is Dream?” 

Dream felt himself wince. Not only was her tone aggressive, but its aggression was amplified with every curse she spat out at him. 

“It’s uh... it’s an alias actually. Soooo... yeah” Dream wanted to throw himself into the castle walls. 

He was so awkward, he felt himself physically cringe. 

The woman’s face softened and Dream couldn’t help but feel it came from pity.

“Alias?” she chuckled. “You’re not an assassin are you?” her tone was playful and she looked at Dream with a grin on her face. 

Dream tried to speak, but he just couldn’t form the words to come out of his lips. 

“Are you?” her tone became firm and she grasped her swords hilt tightly. 

“No- No!” Dream yelled quickly, placing his hands out. 

“I’m a hunter.” he stated, trying to regain his composure. 

Silence. Deafening silence. 

“Cool.” The woman muttered, returning back to the silent atmosphere; Dream following her lead. 

Minutes passed and the two stared out into the distance. Dream couldn’t tell if she was lost in thought or pretending to be like him. 

The woman turned around as the loud clanging of metal footsteps approached from behind. The other guard was back. 

She bagan to walk away. 

“Uhm by the way what’s your name? I never got round to asking.” 

She smiled, turning back at him. 

“It’s Minx, but don’t tell anyone I told you.” She winked and walked away. 

Despite her tough attitude, Minx was able to let go and be friendly around Dream. 

Dream couldn’t help but wonder if she was like this to everyone, or if she had her softer moments that would progress into sarcastic comments after. 

Either way, he didn’t care. He was anxious to hear the guard’s reply. 

“For some reason, the King said you are allowed to attend the orchestral tea party, and you are permitted to talk to him after.” 

“Really?” Dreams face glittered with hope.

“Do I look like a liar to you?” the guard spoke quietly but his words were venom filled. 

Dream shuddered. 

“No, sir.” 

“The King is very interested to see you.” 

“W-Why?” Dream mumbled, chuckling slightly. 

“He knows who you are Dream. And apparently you’re quite the palace favourite.”


End file.
